Long Minister Poems
Long Minister Poems. Below are the most popular long Minister by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Minister poems by poem length and keyword.
We thank the Lord for His mission, assuring our salvation
Truly bringing us His gracious compassion…
…Against worldliness' hell-bound designation.
Since we’re sealed with grand redemption
We must share with others everlasting life’s possession.
We thank the Lord for His mission, granting us divine holiness
Truly imputing to us His virtuous righteousness…
…Against carnality’s defiling filthiness.
Since we’re sanctified thru great forgiveness
We must minister to others with sincerity's kindness.
We thank the Lord for His mission, sealing our eternal security
Truly protecting us within His supreme sovereignty…
…Against death’s sin-penalty.
Since we’re guarded against devilish enmity
We must guide others toward precious mercy’s bounty.
We thank the Lord for His mission, giving us spiritual freedom
Truly acquitting us by His sacrificial ransom…
…Against iniquity’s entangling stardom.
Since we’re shut from destructive idolatry’s welcome
We must usher others to the Saviour’s kingdom.
We thank the Lord for His mission, bestowing us heavenly fulfillment
Truly satisfying us with His blessed contentment…
…Against earthiness’ vanity-enrichment.
Since we’re endowed with inheritance of priceless settlement
We must lead others toward infinite soul-wealth’s entitlement.
We thank the Lord for His mission, enabling our joyful worship
Truly meeting us within His sweet prayer-altar partnership…
…Against worldliness’ dominating friendship.
Since we’re invited to the throne of grace fellowship
We must disciple others through fruitful stewardship’s leadership.
We thank the Lord for His mission, empowering our glorious victory
Truly blessing us around His perfect will-territory…
…Against transgressions’ affliction-misery.
Since we’re triumphant midst hatred of evil fury
We must declare to others the wonderful Gospel*’s love story.
*Romans 1:16 For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ: for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth...
November 7, 2019
Well swollen boobies on bullocks Boris is boss
our nations Prime Minister at J Hunt's loss
some say a buffoon and they say it sinister
like the mans brain is only miniature
think Corbyn the codfish would be better
Brexit, Labour and Lib Dem protestors
"it's another Prime Minister we haven't elected,
this isnt the person the people selected"
these thickheads argue their knowledge of politics......
you vote for the party not person you ricks
Boris played football tackled like rugby
once on top gear like the Crazy Froggy
we didn't no May was mad she's crazy
we can't do worse but some say maybe
Boris is mad we and him no that
can't put him down when he looks a prat
I will Corbyn cus he's a wat
As for Boris has he a wife?
you want to mock his private life
what are you doing with your life
pay attention to your own life
I think it needs filling like turkey
your innards and guts have been freed
shall we sprinkle breadcrumb or bird seed
look at his private life mate you're pervy
Stop making Downing street a frowned on street
with you in the seat it would be clowning street
rant repeat after your vote defeat
we want Brexit stopped please delete
Come on Boris bloody deliver
make Lib Dem babies shiver
they call themselves democrats
I say all of dem is crats
truth is dreams need to be shattered
the Lib Dems have never mattered
So Holy bullocks with boobies and tails
every politician always fails
Churchill the last one to do well
beating Europe let's repeat that tale
I must admit it's a tangled story
I'm loving Boris
hating the Tories
And leaving all else, they debate on lunch.
To one, lunch time was waste, hence, break-less munch.
The other felt, lunch-less
Would no new glory bless
To UK, nor hoary
Return to old glory,
Lunch is a place mid-stream--
Island to which all swim,
If cooler breaks are fine,
Need for lunch-break’s genuine,
For, from stomachs come working peoples’ punch.
____________________________
Happenings |20.12.2024|humour, food
Poet’s note: The prime minister and the leader of opposition are usually at logger heads, and British parliament is no exception. A few days back they exchanged their verbal punches on lunch and need to break for it. No doubt, no lunch is free--at home nor work nor anywhere, still…. This ditty is in full favour of lunchbreaks that refuel and decompress.
Sealed* with the Holy Spirit’s assurance
Our souls --- God has eternally secured
To abide in His gentle forbearance
While from guilt’s affliction, divinely cured.
Exultant blissful hearts of glad worship
Sealed with the Holy Spirit’s assurance
Blessed to reach-out through the Lord’s partnership
Minister midst love's gracious endurance.
Teaching truth of wisdom’s perseverance
Bracing up compassionate victory
Sealed with the Holy Spirit’s assurance
Our faith shines magnifying Christ’s glory.
Advancing toward faithful service height
Exercising kindness and temperance
Our lives thank the Saviour in praise delight
Sealed with the Holy Spirit’s assurance.
*Ephesians 1:13 In whom ye also trusted, after that ye heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation: in whom also after that ye believed, ye were sealed with that holy Spirit of promise.
December 2, 2019
8th place, "Holy Spirit" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke; judged on 12/3/2019.
Laughter from Another Room
by Michael R. Burch
Laughter from another room
mocks the anguish that I feel;
as I sit alone and brood,
only you and I are real.
Only you and I are real.
Only you and I exist.
Only burns that blister heal.
Only dreams denied persist.
Only dreams denied persist.
Only hope that lingers dies.
Only love that lessens lives.
Only lovers ever cry.
Only lovers ever cry.
Only sinners ever pray.
Only saints are crucified.
The crucified are always saints.
The crucified are always saints.
The maddest men control the world.
The dumb man knows what he would say;
the poet never finds the words.
The poet never finds the words.
The minstrel never finds the notes.
The minister would love to curse.
The warrior never knows his foe.
The warrior never knows his foe.
The scholar never learns the truth.
The actors never see the show.
The hangman longs to feel the noose.
The hangman longs to feel the noose.
The artist longs to feel the flame.
The proudest men are not aloof;
the guiltiest are not to blame.
The guiltiest are not to blame.
The merriest are prone to brood.
If we go outside, it rains.
If we stay inside, it floods.
If we stay inside, it floods.
If we dare to love, we fear.
Blind men never see the sun;
other men observe through tears.
Other men observe through tears
the passage of these days of doom;
now I listen and I hear
laughter from another room.
Laughter from another room
mocks the anguish that I feel.
As I sit alone and brood,
only you and I are real.
Keywords/Tags: laughter, another, room, riddle, irony, surreal, anguish, anxiety, angst, brood, real, reality, dream, dreams, persist, lovers, sinners, saints, madmen, poets, artists, minstrels, ministers, warriors, scholars, actors, proud, guilty, merry, blind, tears
New Year is a time to be happy. It is a time to complete that which were promised in the past. Make no new one until you have completed the one you have pledged to do in the past. I believe, if we do that, that which God has promised will begin to take place in our lives. He promised His Son, Christ, and it happened exactly the way He promised and because of that, 'Great Potential' which He placed within us will begin to materialize in our lives. Happy New Year to you!
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In my personal relationship with God all I have to do is talk
To him
Pray have a relationship with him
Here we go
I don't need no
No minister and I don't mean me no disrespect
Don't need no minister to tell me I am, I am not saved
Don't need no fellow Christian to tell me I am not saved
Don't need no denominations to tell me that I am not saved
Rabbi priest no one to tell me I am not save
All of you tell me that I am not saved
I am not saved by a denominational creeds laws and rules
I am not governed by what man says
And this but this I am sure that we can't be joined in
This the Army of God have to be born in
Can't be joined in the Army have to be born in no need to be sworn in
Got to be rebirth in
Born in
I am not saved
But as God would say
Turn around repent believe and receive acknowledge
Jesus Christ as your personal Savior and you shall be saved
It is quite common to kiss injuries on those wee.
At three, my son asked to have bath autonomy.
I tossed a washcloth, then stood where he could not see.
Soon, he called out words that amusingly shook me,
"Mom, it washed sore, come kiss ouchy on my pee-pee."
Shopping, strolling him down the grocery store aisle
where female hygiene products are sorted in piles,
my son, age four, earnestly said, "When I'm grown, I'll
buy all these things with flowers on them for my wife."
His words styled a smile in me that would last for life.
I used mild-applied wooden spoons for mood anchors.
This set me up for disgust from food cart flankers
when my son yelled, "Look Mom, a hole bag of spankers."
My child, four, eyed that, not the shelved Power Rangers?
I hoped no one would report child welfare dangers.
Once, when a minister summed up his sermon's span
asking "Who's the greatest force in the universe?",
my son, at five, stood up with some dramatic plan.
Lifting his toy hero as high as small ones can,
he enthusiastically declared, "Batman!"
Thoughts of vacation, developed my fav word pearl,
"How many times do I wake up before Disney World?"
With the Lord’s supply* of grace and goodness
Enriched by His boundless loving kindness
My spirit flows toward stewardship wealth
To minister in joyous faithfulness.
Fortified by God of strength-supply’s store
Along His Word, mighty upon truth’s core
My faith pleases Him against skeptic doubt
While I prioritize Him to the fore.
Supply of blessings’ generosity
Propped by Christ’s redemption-security
Frees my soul from grievous ministry dearth
In vanquishing anxious infirmity.
*Philippians 4:19 But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.
July 30, 2019
The last three weeks have been a seemingly endless series of welcome parties, get-togethers, receptions, meet-and-greets and cocktail parties - every kind of cheesy or ostentatious soirée my Grandmère can throw together, she’s dragged me to. It’s hard to match her energy.
“You have to meet people,” she insists, “and they have to meet YOU.”
“And why?” I asked, eloquently, but there’s no use resisting - she’s tireless.
The Prime Minister of France - met him. The mayor of Paris, met him, the CEOs of Paribas, L’Oréal, TotalEnergies, AXA, met them, the ministers of the economy, interior and foreign affairs - met ‘em. The US ambassador to France, met him.
In the play “My Fair Lady,” Eliza, meeting people frantically at the races, repeats “How do you do,” over and over and over to great comedic effect. That’s how I feel at these parties, “Enchanté, enchanté, enchanté, enchanté, enchanté.” I say, turning in circles. I’ve met Emmanuel Macron before, but I’m sure I’ll be seeing him again soon. I haven’t met his wife though - I’d love to ask her about that slap.. hhmm.
Is it shocking that I’ve now met anyone who’s anyone at Université Paris Cité? No, because that’s how crazy-lady operates. “You meet everyone, eye-to-eye,” she lectures, “you have to get out of your bubble, and experience the world as interesting,”
That’s her favorite saying these days. “I don’t HAVE a bubble,” I replied, defensively, but she’s left the room - she’s never still. She seems to know we’re on the clock, that once med-school starts, (in September) I’m going to be all about that.
It’s Monday morning. I’ve been at the Shangri-La hotel pool, where we have full privileges, and I’m coated, like a potato, head to foot, with SPF 50 sunscreen - when who shows up?
Peter (my bf). “You’re early!” I say, not at all displeased, but I’m SO conscious of my tacky skin and chemical smell that I face-palm him as he comes in for a snog.
EEuuww. I can’t make-out with a guy when I’m all greased up.
“5 minutes,” I assured him, heading for the shower.
“I’ll join you,” he offered.
“Well, ok,” I chuckle.
.
.
Songs for this:
Better Days by NEIKED, Mae Muller & Polo G
This Girl by Kungs & Cookin' On 3 Burners
Cake By The Ocean by DNCE [E]